Chapter Twenty-four

~O~

Hawke swept into the sitting room, stopping in front of the couch where Anders and her mother sat together, Anders reading a book, while her mother worked on one of the intricate embroidery pieces she delighted in. Marian was arrayed in a floor length satin gown in a striking shade of purple, strapless, with a diamond necklace glittering at her throat and matching teardrop earrings. Her dark locks were done up in an elegant chignon, transforming her appearance from how she usually wore her hair. They both looked up and smiled while she twirled before them and dropped into a deep curtsy, looking up at them and grinning.

"How do I look? Will I manage to blend in among all the nobles in this get-up, or will I be decried as an obvious pretender?"

Anders chuckled and looked at Leandra. "You look beautiful to me, sweetheart, but I must defer to your mother for the rest, since I don't know a noble from a hole in the ground."

Leandra gave Anders an affectionate smile. "I should think you know one quite well, son, you sleep with her every night." She glanced at her daughter. "Although, perhaps rather less sleeping than other things. The walls in this estate aren't quite that thick, you know."

Anders laughed at Leandra's teasing, while Marian flushed crimson with a shocked cry. "Mother! What, in Andraste's name, am I supposed to say to that?"

"Nothing, dear, nothing at all." Leandra grinned at Anders before examining her daughter with a careful eye. "You look lovely, Marian, and you know you have the grace and poise to represent this house with pride. Do remember me to Viscount Dumar, won't you? And I advise you to avoid the truffles, if offered, they always gave me a sour stomach."

Marian smoothed the fabric of her skirt with a pensive look. "I do wish one of you were coming with me, tonight. I feel as though I'm being thrown to the wolves, already basted in blood."

"That's a very unpleasant visual, dear," Leandra said with a shake of her head. "I'm too old for these sorts of functions anymore. If you find you aren't enjoying yourself, it's perfectly acceptable to leave after an hour. That's long enough for everyone to have seen you've done your duty by making an appearance."

Anders gave her a soft smile. "It would do you no favors for me to accompany you, love, otherwise I would. There will almost certainly be quite a few templars present, throughout the Keep, and you are far more diplomatic dealing with them than I ever will be."

"Very well. I suppose I'll see you both later, or perhaps sooner if this Midsummer Ball turns out to be as much of a bore as I expect." Blowing a kiss from the doorway, the sound of her steps grew fainter until the front door closed.

Anders eyes remained on the open doorway while he second-guessed his decision to remain behind, frowning at the worry that always came to the forefront whenever Marian was not in his immediate sight. Surely nothing untoward could befall her in a vast ballroom, surrounded by guards and templars. His frown deepened.

"You worry for her so, Anders, it does my heart good to see such devotion as you carry for my darling girl."

She looked up, pulling the needle through the fabric in her hands while Anders gave her a fond smile. During the years he had been living with Marian, he had spent a great deal of time in Leandra Hawke's company, and had come to know and admire her as a strong, kind woman, in her own right. She had defied her family and the world to love a mage, leaving behind station and privilege to do it, and had proudly birthed two more. When it came to mage's rights and freedom, she was an even more staunch defender and passionate advocate than Marian. It was clear to see where the eldest Hawke had come by many of her finer qualities.

"I never knew I was capable of loving someone so deeply, Leandra, until Marian stormed into my life and captured my heart in her teeth. I can't really help my worry and fretting when we're apart. I don't know, I suppose that's normal?" He shrugged with a questioning look.

Continuing with the tiny stitches, Leandra looked down at her work. "It was the same when Malcolm and I met. Not love at first sight, or anything so silly and cliche." She looked up, her blue eyes soft with memory. "But from our first conversation, there was a connection, an...understanding. It was an all-consuming, desperate love. We needed each other, couldn't live without one another, really, and it was just that simple. Sometimes the most profound things are, you know?" She smiled.

"But yes, the worry, the concern and fretting you experience, that's something that goes hand in hand with such a deep love. How else are we meant to feel when our heart goes walking around outside our body?" Setting aside her handwork, she reached for one of Anders' hands. "I've wanted to speak to you about something, and I think now is the time."

"Of course," Anders replied, gently squeezing her hand. "I'm listening."

Her gaze turned contemplative before she met his eyes. "Marian has always been the one to bear all the family's burdens since Malcolm's death. She was smart and capable, and even able to move among templars. It's not fair, but it's how it happened. You see that in her, I know, it's how I knew you were the one man meant for her." She paused, searching his eyes. "We none of us know how much time we have, but...when I'm gone, will you promise me that you will be with her, and never leave her alone? She's had so much grief in her life already, but I know I will rest most easily, knowing you will be her strength, her rock to cling to if she has to face more. It's just...something I feel it is important to say."

"I don't like to hear you speak this way, Leandra," Anders said, with furrowed brows. "You're healthy, and I fully expect you to live another fifty years, especially with a full time healer in your home." He gave a teasing smile before he sobered. "But I understand what you're asking, and I do give you my word. For as long as I live, I swear to love, protect and care for your daughter. She is the most important thing in my life, and I will do whatever is necessary for her well-being and protection, and her happiness."

She gave him a sterner look than she had ever directed at him before, and he recognized it as a similar expression to when Marian stubbornly set her mind on something. "I know this is a hard question, Anders, and I likely have no right to ask it of you, but I'm going to anyway, because I need to know your answer. Is Marian more important than your cause, or will you set aside her needs in pursuit of your goals?"

He dipped his chin, his brown eyes resolved. "When I tell you that Marian is the most important thing, the most important person in my life, that is exactly what I mean. What would I be fighting for if not for her? She is first, before any other cause or concern, and she is living the dream of every mage, free to do as she pleases. I would never dare jeopardize that for her."

Leandra tilted her head. "Well, in for a copper, in for a silver, I suppose. Let me ask the last questions I have, since we are already speaking so candidly, and she isn't here to stop me or scold me for it. Would you want to marry her?"

"Of course, when she decides she wants it," he replied, with a broad grin. "I first offered marriage to her before she fell ill in the deep roads, and I would have married her after our return if she would have consented to it. I have asked again since then and she did agree, at some future time, possibly in another year or two. I will very happily and eagerly tie her to me more fully, before man and Maker, but the timing of that is her choice to make, not mine."

"And," Leandra ventured in a quieter tone, "what about children? I know I probably shouldn't hold onto any hope of grandchildren, but I do admit a small sliver of that hope still lives in me. She has never spoken of wanting a family, to me, but I think much of that has to do with her feelings and worry about her magic. But she might feel differently, now, since you also have magic. Have the two of you ever discussed that, at all?"

His warm brown eyes became more soft and tender. "Yes, she did speak to me about her feelings regarding children. At first, Marian was vehemently opposed to the very idea of a child, but she has had a rather remarkable change of heart since then, and is now open to the possibility. For myself, I can never imagine us having a child together with anything less than joyful wonder, but that would be something for the future, after we marry. I have to respect her feelings on the timing, as that would obviously be a big responsibility for us both, starting a family. But I do have hope we will make you happy in that way, someday."

With tears in her eyes, Leandra laid a hand against his cheek and smiled. "Hearing this has already made me so happy, Anders. You have such a kind, generous heart. I couldn't wish for a better man for my Marian. The Maker smiled on this family when he sent you to join it." He leaned over and kissed her cheek, smiling back. Reaching for her embroidery, she stood and gave him a knowing look. "Now, why don't you run and change so you can go up to the Keep as you've been thinking of doing? Whether you decide to go into the ball or not, you can always wait and walk Marian home, after."

He stood to his feet and gave her an amused look, chuckling. "Are all mothers such gifted mind readers, or is that only your special talent?"

She laughed in delight. "I just remember young love, dear boy. Thank you for indulging all my questions and curiosity so fully, today. Now, off you go." Leandra watched him leave, smiling to herself before she went to discuss the next week's meals with the cook.

~O~

Marian entered the grand ballroom of the Viscount's Keep, admiring all the fresh flowers, artfully arranged on tables, as well as festooned and draped over every available surface. They were not only beautiful, but perfumed the very air, making her draw in deep, appreciative breaths, every inhale making her smile grow.

"Ah, Lady Hawke. I suppose they're handing out invitations to anyone, these days. On behalf of Viscount Dumar, welcome to the Midsummer Ball. I hope you are able to enjoy yourself." Seneschal Bran Cavin gave her the barest tilt of his head, what could hardly be described as a greeting, much less a bow, as she was due.

Smirking, she lifted her chin. "Good evening, Bran. Still barking at all the uncouth strays that wander in, I see. I'll try to be on my very best behavior, and refrain from swinging from the curtains, if only to please you."

The slight lift of his lips was the only sign of his amusement, while his eyes openly moved over her in an assessing way. "While your Ferelden birth and breeding may leave something to be desired, I will admit your beauty is a credit to you. I shan't be surprised to see you pursued throughout the evening, and perhaps I will look forward to that as entertainment." He lowered his voice as he moved past her. "Don't look now, but I think the Prince of Starkhaven has come to make the first attempt. Good luck."

The man she had only seen the one time in the Chantry stepped in front of her and lifted her hand to his mouth for a kiss. He was dressed in such sumptuous clothing, there could be no doubt he was a person of importance. He smiled down at her warmly.

"Lady Hawke, I seem to hear your name everywhere I go in Kirkwall. When we met, I had no idea you were a woman of so many...talents." He offered his arm, and she took it, letting him lead her to a refreshment table.

"Nice to see you again, and please call me Marian. How shall I address you, by your title?" She accepted the glass of wine he handed her, taking a sip to moisten her throat.

He smiled. "Of course, Marian, and I would be honored if you would call me Sebastian. With all the good I hear spoken of you, I almost feel as though I know you, and we are already friends."

She raised a brow, surprised by his unexpected charm. "How kind of you to say. I am always happy to receive an offer of friendship, and more than willing to accept, when it is genuine. But one never knows what to expect of the titled nobility, and based on my experience thus far, it is seldom sincerity."

With lips pressed together, he nodded. "You are not wrong to be cautious, the maneuvering of the ambitious can be truly vicious, as well as deadly. I offer what happened to my own family as proof. But please rest easy with me, I want nothing from you beyond friendship. The vows I have taken to serve the Maker, mean I am likely the safest man in this room for you to spend time with, tonight."

Laughing, she sipped her wine, giving him a sidelong glance. "Why, Sebastian, whatever can you mean by that?"

He lifted his own glass for a sip, a twinkle in his eyes as he lowered it. "Just because I serve the Maker, it does not make me blind to the sight of a beautiful, alluring woman, Marian." He swept his gaze around the room and took a step closer to her when he noted the blatant interest of more than a few men, focused on her. "Did you not come with a protector, this evening?" He questioned more quietly, in his soft brogue. "I thought from the Hightown gossip, that you were spoken for. Or, is that not true?"

She stepped close enough for him to smell her lavender scent when she placed her empty glass on the table and looked up at him in challenge. "I am spoken for, but I don't require a protector, Sebastian. I am more than capable of looking after myself, though I do appreciate your concern."

He held up his hands in surrender and smiled appealingly. "I'm sorry if I have offended you, that was not my intent. I only wanted to save you from any unpleasantness from the circling sharks, but if you prefer the trial of a perilous swim, be my guest. I admire your unflinching courage."

Turning to survey the dancing couples, she tilted her head. "The De Launcet cousin visiting from Orlais, I think he looks to be the worst shark here. Followed by…" She squinted and made a sound of amusement. "Lord Wolton, lecherous old geezer that he is."

"You have a very discerning eye," Sebastian said with a laugh. "Maurice De Launcet is definitely the worst of the lot, practically eaten up with vice and dissipation, and Lord Wolton nearly as bad. For such an old man, you would think those desires would fade, but apparently not."

Marian stifled her giggle, running her fingers lightly across the necklace at her throat. "It's practically become a sport for me, keeping my backside out of groping distance. Maybe we should bet on who is more agile, Lord Wolton, or me."

Sebastian crossed his arms and laughed heartily, giving her a long, thoughtful look, the smile still on his face. "How would you like to join me in giving the Hightown gossips something new to chew on, Marian, while also keeping the sharks at bay?"

She looked at him through her lashes and smiled coyly. "What exactly did you have in mind, Sebastian?"

He bowed before her with a grand flourish and extended his hand, winking. "May I have this dance, Lady Hawke? The Starkhaven Prince finds himself overcome by your charms, and desires your company for the evening. Will you accept?"

Understanding his angle and admiring his rebellious pluck which matched her own, she laughed and placed her hand in his. "Such a flattering offer, how could I refuse?"

Leading her out onto the dance floor, he pulled her into his arms and they gleefully proceeded to set every tongue wagging with speculation.

~O~

Two women stood together in front of the door of the Keep, one dark and one fair, fanning themselves with painted Orlesian hand fans and sending their expensive perfume wafting around them. Their thick Orlesian accents left no doubt as to their heritage.

"But did you see what she was wearing, Babette? I should be ashamed to show my face in such a rag. Still, the scenery here tonight isn't the worst. I would even say it just improved considerably." The one speaking gave Anders an interested look when he reached the top of the stairs, trailing her eyes up his body, and smiling when she met his amused gaze. "I don't recognize you, Serrah, are you visiting Kirkwall from elsewhere?"

"No, actually, I live here, with Lady Hawke at the Amell estate." He crossed his arms and smirked as he saw the realization dawn on them as to who he was. "My name is Anders, and you both are?"

"I'm Babette de Launcet," the fair one offered with a superior smile. "And this is my sister, Fifi."

"We have heard much talk of you," Fifi laughed. "But you are far better looking than I expected, especially for a Ferelden peasant, and you seem to be more than just a pretty face." She gave him another interested once over. "Perhaps Lady Hawke's taste in lovers is to be commended."

"I'm flattered by such high praise, I'm sure." Anders gave her a dry look, his voice dripping irony.

"Your Lady Hawke has been very amusing to observe." Babette ran a hand over her hair and shared a look with her sister.

"Yes," Fifi agreed. "Our cousin, Maurice, cannot stop mentioning her...charms. But surely you want to go and find your Hawke? I believe she is dancing, if you wish to join her." The two women laughed together and entered the Keep, leaving the healer standing there, shaking his head and cursing all formal balls under his breath.

Anders wandered into the Keep, following the distant laughter and the strains of music coming from the grand ballroom. It certainly wasn't where he would choose to spend an evening, but if Marian could tolerate it for the sake of her family, he could certainly disguise his own contempt enough to offer her his support in the endeavor.

"Hey, Blondie," Varric said with a welcoming smile, emerging from a loud group of people to come and stand beside the mage. "Nice outfit, a classic." He flicked a finger at the all black coat and tunic, and dark trousers Anders wore. "You come to rescue Hawke from her admirers? Probably a good thing."

"Varric. Marian and Leandra are forever buying me new clothes, so it is their taste you must compliment, not mine. And I certainly wouldn't venture into this unpleasant snake pit for anything less than extricating Marian."

They walked to one of several open doors that granted a clear view of the ball and the couples dancing. Just inside, Cullen stood in his formal templar armor, his arms crossed and an unusally dark, brooding look on his face. Grinning, Anders walked up next to him. "Knight-Captain, you look ready to kill something. Is this your normal face for balls? If so, I heartily approve, as it expresses my opinion of the whole affair."

Cullen cracked a smile and shook his head, meeting the mage's eyes. "Not normally, no, though it certainly isn't something I enjoy. But I've never been on duty at any other ball where I had to watch a certain person dance with a strange man all night."

"How's it going, Curly? Nice to see you." Varric smiled up at the templar, who gave him a puzzled look before murmuring a greeting.

Turning with a frown, Anders swept his eyes across the room, his own expression darkening when he spotted the woman he was looking for. "Who's the poncy bastard dancing with Marian?"

"That would be Sebastian Vale, the Prince of Starkhaven. Hawke and I met him in the Chantry a while back, when we went to turn in the bounty he paid us to complete. He's a brother in the Chantry, but since his whole family was murdered, he's the only living heir. Don't worry, he doesn't have any designs on Hawke. He's sworn vows of poverty and chastity, or some shit." Varric shrugged, draining his drink.

Scrubbing a hand across his face, Anders sighed. "Fuck, I should have waited for her outside. I really want to go punch the prig and tell him to keep his hands to himself."

Cullen smiled with faint amusement and shifted, keeping his voice low so he wouldn't be overheard. "If you do, I'll cheer for you."

Anders looked at Cullen in surprise, then laughed, putting his back toward the dancers and leaning nearer the templar. "We're both ridiculous. You do realize that, don't you?"

"From where I sit, I find you both entertaining. It's almost like your jealousy over Hawke has bonded the two of you together, instead of making you enemies. That's pretty rare, lemme tell you. I'm sensing a story there." Varric stroked his chin. "Gives me an idea for a new serial, maybe."

"Varric, I don't think I want you bandying my business about in one of your stories," Anders said with a frown.

The dwarf smiled broadly. "Blondie, you're with Hawke, which makes you fair game for gossip and stories. I'm going to get another drink. If you plan to punch the prince, wait until I get back, I don't want to miss it."

Clenching his jaw, Anders turned his gaze back toward the dance floor. Marian, you better get your gorgeous ass over here to me, before I'm moved to violence against the man currently touching you.

Be right there, love, came her laughing voice in his mind, making him smile. He watched them until she stood in front of him, then slipped her arms around his waist, making his raging jealousy fade away to nothing. He wrapped his arms firmly around her, staring down the man in front of him.

"Anders, Cullen, this is Sebastian Vale, Prince of Starkhaven, and a brother in the Chantry. Sebastian, Anders is the man in my life that I told you about, and Cullen is the Knight-Captain of the templars in Kirkwall, and a very dear friend."

Sebastian nodded. "Anders, Cullen, pleased to meet you both." He smiled at Hawke. "Marian, thank you for your company. Now that you're in good hands and safe, I'll bid you all a good evening."

She nodded. "Good night, Sebastian, and thank you."

Cullen stepped closer and gave her a probing look. "What did he mean, safe? Were you threatened tonight? You could have come to me, Marian…"

She laughed and laid her head against Anders' chest, smiling up at Cullen. "I was only in danger of having my ass groped by all the lusty lechers, but nothing more. Sebastian appointed himself my protector before that could happen, and I decided to humor him, since I had nothing better to do. He's a strange chap, but I can't claim to understand people that swear off sex. That's like deciding you've had your fill of joy and happiness, and vowing to never smile again."

"Well said," Anders murmured, with a half grin, running a hand up and down her bare arm.

Cullen shook his head with a small smile. "No more joy or happiness? That's not possible with you around, Marian. Are you both heading home now?"

"Yes," she said emphatically. "My feet are killing me."

"Alright." Cullen gave her a warm look. "I'll see you both tomorrow, then."

Cullen went back to his duties and Anders led Marian out of the ballroom, their path quickly blocked by a slender, foppish looking man, his wavy brown hair continuously falling into his eyes. Clearly Orlesian, as his ridiculous, lacy fashions left no doubt of. Anders glared angrily at how the man's gaze moved slowly up Marian's body with undisguised lust, as though she were some tart for hire.

"Lady Hawke," the man said in a purring voice, thick with an Orlesian accent. "Surely you aren't leaving already, not when I've been waiting to get my hands on you all evening, and you do look good enough to eat, positively delectable."

Can I punch him, please, love? Or maybe just a small fireball?

No, he's mine, Marian warned Anders silently while she smiled seductively at the man.

"Maurice de Launcet, I presume? Yes, I'm rather tired and ready to retire, though I am sorry to miss out on the pleasure of your company, of course. But I'm so glad I ran into you." Stepping close, she took one of his hands in both of hers, her expression worried and sympathetic.

"I happened to overhear a group of ladies earlier, discussing some of your bedroom difficulties, and while there really isn't anything to be done about the small size issue, I wanted to give you hope on the other thing." She patted his hand soothingly while his eyes widened in alarm. She gestured to Anders. "You know, my lover is an accomplished healer, and he can likely recommend a potion or some herbs that will let you last longer than only twenty or thirty seconds. Can't you, love?"

Also assuming a sober, sympathetic mien, Anders stepped closer and nodded. "While it may not be the most common problem among my patients, I have had some success treating premature ejaculation. I recommend a powdered form of the grimthorne root, in water, taken at least an hour before any sexual activity. And don't worry about the bad breath you may experience as a side effect, it should lessen in time. While it won't entirely cure your issue, it may at least help, a bit."

Marian beamed at a flabbergasted Maurice, his mouth opening and closing helplessly while several giggles and whispers could be heard all around them. "I do hope we have been of some assistance to you, Maurice. Have a lovely evening."

Taking Anders' arm again, Marian smirked at Varric's admiring wink and salute as they passed him. It was only when they were free of the Keep that she felt Anders' eyes on her and looked up to meet them, smiling innocently.

His own smile grew to a full grin. "Maker, woman, I love you. And I thought there was nothing but misery to be had at these stuffy balls, but you've shown me the error of that assumption."

With blue eyes full of mischievous satisfaction, she shrugged. "There will always be gossips, might as well use them to bring a womanizing prick down a peg, or two."

"Watching you effortlessly handle that fop made my prick stand up and take notice," he murmured, as they started down the stairs. "I have a bottle of Orlesian rum stashed away for you, if you're in the mood for some Hard in Hightown: Apostates Gone Wild…"

Marian laughed, side-eyeing Anders. "I thought you didn't like for me to get too drunk, it makes you very grumpy."

He shook his head. "I don't like you to get drunk when I'm not there. When you're with me, I keep you from having so much it makes you ill, but you still get to kick back and let your hair down. And speaking of that…" Anders stopped and swiftly removed the pins from her chignon, stuffing them into his pocket and allowing her dark hair to spill free, where it ended midway down her back. He hummed approvingly, scratching his nails lightly against her scalp before stepping back and giving her a heated look.

"I don't know what it is about some men's craving for a woman's long hair, but it definitely turns you on. I may never cut it again." She shook it out more completely, some of it spilling over her shoulders and across her breasts.

Anders smirked. "Sweetheart, you have no idea. Though I would remind you that you also have certain preferences for how I wear my hair in the bedroom. So, what do you think of my suggestion?"

She slipped off her shoes and groaned, picking them up to carry. "And what if I'm too tired for rum and Hard in Hightown?"

He shrugged and gave her a good-natured smile. "We can just go to sleep, if you're tired. Are you hungry?"

"I only had wine at the ball, so I am a bit hungry, the kind that involves chewing and swallowing." Marian started down the stairs again.

Anders gave her a playful, naughty look. "Not sure about the chewing part, but I can certainly give you something to swallow, just say the word."

She laughed and rolled her eyes. "I really set myself up for that one, didn't I?"

Admiring her swaying hips from behind in her party dress, he caught up and wrapped an arm around her waist, sliding his hand down to squeeze her luscious behind. "I'm very glad I have full rights to this ass, Marian. I might go mad if I could only look and not touch."

"Oi!" came a voice from the dark shadows beside the stairs. Carver stepped into the light in his templar armor. "Stop groping my sister in public, mage. That's what bedrooms are for." Marian walked to her brother and he leaned down for the kiss she pressed to his cheek.

"If you think those activities only take place in bedrooms, you have a severely limited imagination, Carver," Anders said, smiling.

Shaking his head at the healer, Carver looked back at his sister. "You both look nice, all done up in your fancy togs. Had enough of the bloody nobles for one night?"

Marian gave him a significant look, her brows raised. "More like I've had enough of the bloody nobles for the next ten years, at least. Be glad you don't have to deal with all this rubbish, it's about as much fun as shoving a dagger under your fingernail, repeatedly."

Smirking, Carver nodded. "That's what I thought. I don't envy you that, sister."

"Are you on duty, or can you come to the house for a while? I haven't had any dinner yet, and you're welcome to join us."

"I'd like to, Mari," he said regretfully. "But I am on duty. I was supposed to be in the Keep, but Cullen fixed it so I could be out here, instead. He knows how much I hate all that high society shit."

She smiled teasingly. "Shall I have Bodahn sneak a few tarts out here to you? Cook made a fresh batch earlier. I'm sure there are still some left."

Carver looked around and nodded. "You know how to keep this templar in your pocket, sister, just keep feeding me tarts."

Angry voices started yelling from just outside the Keep, drawing the attention of Anders and the Hawke siblings. Carver sighed, starting up the stairs.

"Duty calls, sounds like another drunk couple airing their dirty laundry for the Maker and everyone. See you both later."

Marian tilted her head up and drew in a deep breath of the night air, turning a sultry smile on Anders."I think I'm suddenly hungry for something to swallow, love, perhaps after a bit of dinner and some Orlesian rum."

Anders slid an arm around her shoulders and leaned down for a quick kiss, then winked at her. "We are in perfect agreement, as usual, as I'm also very thirsty for my favorite vintage. I think my evening is about to get a whole lot better, and so is yours, sweetheart." Holding hands, they walked the rest of the way to the estate.

~O~